


Sleepyhead

by dogfighter3000



Series: Fluff, Angst, and General Prompt Fills [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Falcon and the Winter Soldier
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Pillow & Blanket Forts, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, so much fluff! its all i wanna write...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:42:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29707656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogfighter3000/pseuds/dogfighter3000
Summary: Being easily awoken by somebody walking past or the sounds of something shifting within the shadows, a good trait to have when you’re touring in Afghanistan! Much less helpful in the middle of the night when you’re trying to sleep through your insomniac boyfriend’s incessant pacing.“Come back to bed. Please,” Sam begs from where his head is buried beneath both his and Bucky’s pillows.(general prompt #12 “Come back to bed. Please.”)
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson
Series: Fluff, Angst, and General Prompt Fills [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2178573
Comments: 3
Kudos: 95





	Sleepyhead

**Author's Note:**

> I used general prompt #12 from Prompt List #1 created by tumblr user v4lentiines and the title is from the song Sleepyhead by The Scary Jokes
> 
> Could be seen as a continuation of Pleasure Cruise (the previous addition to my prompt series), but can also be read alone as well.

Serving in Afghanistan taught Sam lots of things. When you’re working all day and halfway into the night you learn to get sleep whenever, and wherever, you possibly can. There’s an endless list of odd places Sam had fallen asleep during his two tours. In the back of heavy-duty trucks four-wheeling it through the desert, on the cold, hard ground while using a rock as a pillow, and on one memorable occasion, in a dogpile of his fellow soldiers. More importantly than getting sleep whenever you can, though, was the ability to be up and ready at a moment’s notice. That’s what really saved lives on the battlefield.

Being easily awoken by somebody walking past or the sounds of something shifting within the shadows, a good trait to have when you’re touring in Afghanistan! Much less helpful in the middle of the night when you’re trying to sleep through your insomniac boyfriend’s incessant pacing.

“Come back to bed. Please,” Sam begs from where his head is buried beneath both his and Bucky’s pillows. From the end of the bed, the shuffling of Bucky’s baggy sweatpants pauses for a moment. The moment of blissful silence has Sam drifting back to sleep for maybe the fourth time since his other half woke up shivering and sweating at one in the morning.

The momentary peace is shattered when Bucky begins his pacing once more, this time his teeth chattering on top of it.

Sam groans and wriggles out from under the makeshift ear muffs he’d created out of blankets and pillows. After punching the pillows into a decently comfortable backrest, he props himself up on the bed and holds his arms out to his anxious boyfriend.

“C’mere.”

“M’sorry. Just go back to sleep, Sam. Didn’t mean to ma-”

“I’m not asking, Barnes. Get your frosty ass over here,” Sam puts as much steel in his voice as he can at four in the morning, but it works as intended and Bucky finally shuffles over to him. He hesitates for only a moment, then flops down into Sam’s open arms and buries his face into his chest.

It’s not often that Sam has to boss Bucky around, Bucky much prefers giving as good as he gets. Shit, most of their relationship is built off of their endless bickering. There are those nights, though, when things are too noisy inside Bucky’s head for him to think, let alone decide what he needs most in the moment. Bucky says it’s leftover conditioning from whatever the hell HYDRA did to fuck his brain over, Sam insists it’s a trauma response. Either way, sometimes Bucky needs help getting out of his head and making decisions. Usually they talk about it and Sam tries his best to ease Bucky back into a better headspace, but it’s four in the fucking morning and they both need sleep more than they need to discuss this for the third time this month.

“Lay down with me and go to sleep,” Sam mumbles into the top of Bucky’s head, running his fingers through the tangles above his shoulders. It’s proof that Bucky had been twisting it between his fingers anxiously while he paced.

“Can’t. It’s so-suh-so cold in here,” Bucky grinds out between still chattering teeth. He’d removed his vibranium arm before bed - on bad nights he insisted it felt like ice against the rest of his skin - and had his right arm wedged in between Sam’s shoulders and the bed.

This wasn’t all that surprising. The last mission they’d gone on had been a bit rocky, between the two of them struggling to keep their heads above freezing ocean water and then Bucky had nearly fallen three hundred feet through the air. Whether Bucky acknowledged it or not, it had hit him close to home.

“You want me to go grab your fuzzy socks for you?” Sam teased lightly, gently tugging Bucky up to look him in the eyes. 

“Do-don’t want to keep y-you up,” He sighs back before pressing a few apologetic kisses to Sam’s chest. “I’ll guh-go to the living room.”

“Yeah you will. Go to the living room and bring back that fluffy, grey blanket from the back of the couch,” Sam sits up, helping Bucky slide off the bed and onto his feet. It’s an odd enough request to throw Bucky off his normal self-sacrificing spiel. “What are you waiting for? Hop to it, sergeant!”

Bucky rolls his eyes but does as he told, slipping out of their shared bedroom into the living area. While he’s out there gathering the literal piles of blankets off the couch, Sam crosses the room to the linen closet of the attached bathroom. There’s about three pillows on the top shelf and Sam takes them all and crams them into flannel pillow cases. He starts neatly arranging them on the bed along with the four other pillows already residing there, effectively creating a wall around the top of the bed.

Bucky didn’t allow himself to indulge much. It was some misguided attempt to punish himself for the things he’d done under HYDRA’s control, and they were working on it. Though, Bucky could never resist something soft. It was the one weakness he allowed himself to have beyond Sam, of course, and it’s the entire reason why their apartment is covered in fleece blankets and soft pillow cases and flannel sheets. Why Bucky’s half of the closet is filled with sweatpants and flannel button-ups and a dozen plush hoodies.

Then, just as he planned, Bucky shuffles back into their room with all the throws from the living room piled high in his arm. They might have a problem. There’s truly a ridiculous amount of throw blankets in the apartment.

“There were two grey blankets,” Bucky murmurs from somewhere behind the veritable mountain of fabric blocking him from view. “I didn’t know if you meant the big one or the small one.”

“So you brought all six blankets from the living room instead?” Bucky’s immediately embarrassed at Sam’s teasing, tossing them down onto the bed.

“It’s fine. I can just go take the other ones back,” He grumbles and Sam would bet real money that his face is bright red underneath the shaggy hair he’s currently trying to hide behind.

“C’mon, baby. I didn’t mean it like that,” Sam hums softly, taking Bucky’s right hand and reeling him in so they’re chest to chest. Using the few inches that Bucky has on him to his advantage, and peering through all the messy fringe to look him in the eyes. “I knew you’d grab ‘em all. It’s part of my big master plan.”

“Master plan?”

“My master plan to be in that bed and snoring within thirty minutes tops,” Pressing a quick kiss to Bucky’s lips, Sam pulls back a bit, fingers still twined with his boyfriend’s. He tugs him over to the end of the bed and shoves the largest blanket of the bunch to the other’s chest. “Lay this out onto the bed first then we’ll put the others on top.”

Bucky glances at Sam from the corner of his eye as he pulls his hand away to start smoothing it over the comforter on their bed. “Onto the bed? Do you mean the mountain of pillows that appeared in our room while I was out?”

“I want us comfy and cozy for the two hours of sleep we’ll manage before Rogers gets his kicked-puppy ass face in here at the crack of dawn tryna convince me to go for a jog. Sue me,” Sam mock glares as he tosses the next blanket on top of the one Bucky finished laying down.

“Hey, don’t look at me. You started that shit when you two got buddy-buddy in DC,” Bucky scoffs, helping with the next blanket. “The Steve I knew literally couldn’t go for a morning jog. Not unless he wanted to catch his death, anyways.”

“Yeah, but that was before I got a smoking hot cyborg boyfriend!” Sam protests, tossing his arms up in exasperation. “Sometimes I just wanna spend a lazy morning in bed with him!”

There’s no snarky comeback for that one and Bucky’s back to trying to hide his blush and a smile behind a curtain of tangled brown hair. Together the both of them manage to smooth the pie of rumpled blankets into a thick layer over the top of the bed. The bed that looks truly ridiculous at this point, what with the semi-circle of pillows at the top and the plush mountain of fleece covering the rest of it.

“Perfect. Now crawl in,” Sam grins widely as he gestures dramatically. “Literally. I don’t think there’s any other way of getting in besides crawling.”

Rolling his eyes, Bucky does just that. It’s a bit touch and go for a little bit, he has to practically shimmy down underneath all the blankets, but once he’s in there he isn’t going anywhere. All that’s visible of him is his eyes to the top of his head, making Sam laugh.

“If I wasn’t dead on my feet I’d take a picture of you like this.”

“Get in here already, Wilson.”

“Okay! Alright!” Once Sam’s tucked in as well, a feat that took lots of finesse and wriggling, he wraps an arm around Bucky’s waist and snuggles into his left side. “Here we go,” He speaks into Bucky’s chest. “Feeling any better now?”

Bucky wiggles down a bit more, cozying up and pressing his lips to the top of Sam’s head as he sighs contentedly. “Getting warmer.”

**Author's Note:**

> I could have done something really schmoopy and disgustingly emotional with this prompt but I got off work and couldn't get blanket piles off the brain. Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
